Goodbye, Curtis Parents
by CapNicholls
Summary: Yeah, I couldn't think of a title. Again. Oh well. Right after they find out their parents died. Didn't turn out very well, but whatever. Disclaimer: I own nothing.


It's so warm, all I want to do is go back to sleep - but I can't. Something's wrong…

I finally open my eyes and realize I'm sitting on the couch, leaned up against Darry, wrapped up in his and Soda's arms. Soda's asleep, his head on Darry's shoulder, one arm around him and the other around me, and I feel his fingers curl at the back of my neck as he stirs, but he doesn't wake up.

 _Why are we here?_ I think drowsily, and then suddenly remember. The accident. The police coming over. The shock as the news hit us. _Nonono._ I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip, feeling myself start to tremble _. This is just a dream._ They can't be gone. But they are. And nothing can bring them back.

"Alright, kiddo?"

Darry's quiet voice startles me, and I draw back reflexively. I didn't know he was awake.

"Hey, shh." He reaches forward to stroke my hair. "It's okay."

His voice is gentle, his touch is gentle, and I automatically lean back against him, closing my eyes again and pressing the side of my face to the front of his shirt. I just need the warmth and comfort of another human being.

Darry holds me close, the warmth from his hand seeping through the back of my shirt, and I can't stay awake. Another arm slips around me as someone else pulls me slightly towards them. Soda, I realize drowsily, and I relax against both my brothers before drifting back to sleep.

XxX

Pony's breathing turns light and even, but Soda and I don't let him go. I don't know about Soda, but for some reason I'm afraid that if I let go of Ponyboy, I'll lose him too. We stay quiet for a long time, then, abruptly, Soda pulls his arms away from Pony and I, gets up, and goes out to the kitchen. I do my best not to wake Ponyboy as I pull him away from me and set him back on the couch. He lets out a small whimper, and I crouch next him, running my fingers through his hair until he calms down. I get up, go out to the kitchen, and see Sodapop with his back to me, standing at the sink, gripping the counter.

"Soda?"

"Is it my fault?" His frame is steady, but his voice is shaking.

My brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

"I told them to do it." He turns to face me, and I see more pain there in his face than I thought was humanly possible. "Don't you remember? I told Dad he should surprise Mom with a picnic. It's _my_ fault they're dead, Darry." There are tears in his eyes as he bites the inside of his lower lip, trying not to cry.

I feel like someone punched me in the gut. Soda thinks it's his fault? I don't let my voice waver when I say, "It's not your fault, Sodapop. They were planning it weeks ago. I heard them talking about it." It's not true, them planning it - _but it's not Soda's fault either_. And I can't let him believe it is.

He looks at me like he wants to believe me, but doesn't.

"Soda," I say gently, "it's not your fault, little buddy." Soda's different than Pony. Pony draws comfort from physical contact, from knowing someone's there with him. Soda draws comfort from words, from being assured it's going to be alright. Or from being assured it's not his fault. "They would've gone if you'd told them to or not, okay? Look at me." I wait until he finally looks up, meeting my eyes. " _It's not your fault_."

He searches my face, wanting to know I mean it, and finally nods slightly before looking back down. "Okay."

I let out a long breath. I don't know what else to say to him. "Okay."

XxX

Was it only yesterday we found out? It seems like it's been a lifetime... My chest aches and I wish I could stop thinking about it...

Suddenly I hear Pony whisper, "Soda?"

I prop myself up on my elbows to look across the room at him, seeing the moonlight splash across his bed. He's sitting up, fiddling with the blanket, looking down. "Yeah?"

"...We're gonna be okay, right?"

He sounds so young - but then, he is. Only thirteen. When he looks up at me, he looks so scared. Helpless. I wish I knew what to do to comfort him. "Yeah," I reply softly. "We'll be alright."

As he nods hesitantly, wanting to believe me, I pray that it's true.


End file.
